We have sent him seeds of the melo… And nailed a warning upon his door… By the Ku Klux laws we can do no… Down in the hollow, 'mid crib and… The roof of his low-porched house…

The partridge-berry flecks with fl… That leads to ferny hollows where… Drones on the aster. Far away the… Points its deep sapphire with a gl… Here from this height where, clust…

Deep in her broom-sedge, burs and… Her frost-slain asters and dead ma… Where gray the wilding clematis ba… The brake with puff-balls: where t… Her sombre steps: decked with the…

Christmas is just one week off, And Old Santa’s in the house; In the attic heard a cough Th’ other day when not a mouse Nor a rat, I know, was there.

Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils.- Awake! arise! and let me see

Far as the eye can see the land is… And desolation sits among the ston… Looking on ruin who, from rocks li… Stares with a dead face at the dyi… Mounds, where the barberry and bay…

The hills hang woods around, where… Dark, breezy boughs of beech-trees… Crisp with the brittle hulls of la… The water hums one bar there; and… Of gold lies steady where the trai…

The face of the world is a homely… And the look of the world unkind, When harsh on your arm a hand it l… And bids you into the grind, That ‘s little to your mind, my de…

The night has set her outposts the… Of wind and rain; And to and fro, with ragged hair, At intervals they search the pane. The fir-trees, creepers redly clim…

It’s ‘Sweet, good-bye,’ when penn… And ships put out to sea; It’s a loving kiss, and a tear or… In an eye of brown or an eye of bl… And you’ll remember me,

A Mile of lane, hedged high with… And dying daisies, white with sun,… Downward into a wood; through whic… Steals like a shadow; over which i… A bridge of logs, worn deep by man…

The doubtful dawn came dim and wan… And dimmer grew the day: The kildee whistled among the weed… The blue crane clanged in the rive… And a mist fell wild and gray.

When winds go organing through the… On hill and headland, darkly gleam… Meseems I hear sonorous lines Of Iliads that the woods are drea…

I can’t get up with the chickens; I can’t get up at dark: And what do I care for the early… And what do I care for the lark? I can’t do this or that thing;

What joy you take in making hotnes… In emphasising dulness with your b… Making monotony more monotonous! When Summer comes, and drouth hat… In all the creeks, we hear your ra…